Peter's Pickled Peppers
by theqwerty
Summary: Peter heads to his first Divination class of the year but has no idea how to get there. Will he make it to class on time? And, even more important, will he make a good first impression on the new Divination professor?


Peter's Pickled Peppers Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor the pickled peppers tongue twister. A/N: Before I had an account a friend had this posted, so, if you've read this before, be assured that it really is my own work and not being copied from someone else. 

Peter was walking up the stairs to the Divination classroom, disappointed that Sirius and James had managed to get them selves thrown in the Hospital Wing on the first day of classes.

It had been worth it, though, to see Snivellus turned into a slobbering monster. It was a pity that James and Sirius had forgotten how fast a hippogriff could be when they planned the prank. And not to forget how sharp its claws were. Needless to say, the prank had _not_ made a good impression on Lily Evans, the love of James's life. Lily detested the Marauders, as the quartet called themselves.

James and Sirius would probably be in the Hospital Wing for at least twenty-four hours.

Remus was in Arithmancy, telling the other three Marauders how pointless Divination was, but Peter really didn't care, he needed to take the class to at least look like he was doing okay in school. James and Sirius just took as many classes as possible to annoy as many professors as possible.

Peter looked around at the hallway. How long did it take to get to the Divination tower anyways? The one thing Peter hated about Hogwarts was the size. It was so big that he was always getting lost. This was his third-year, after all, he should have known his way around.

In a way, he blamed James and Sirius for that. Whenever they went out at night with James's invisibility cloak, Peter never got to go along. Oh, he got to help plan the pranks and laugh at the aftermath, but since only two people, three at the most, could fit under the cloak, he generally got left out. By now, James and Sirius knew the castle like the back of their hands, but Peter had not had any time to learn about the castle. When he was not helping James and Sirius plan pranks, he was wrestling with his school work. He tried to make an effort, really, he did, but it just made no difference, and he had almost failed a few of his classes the past year. He supposed it ran in his family. His mum had barely graduated, his two uncles had dropped out, and his brother hadn't even been accepted.

A voice interrupted his thoughts, speaking in the worst Old English he had ever heard in his life. He looked up.

On the wall next to him there was a portrait of a knight. He looked at the frame and saw a name. _Sir Cadogan_. He looked closer at the picture, a knight on a horse holding a sword. The horse looked rather ill tempered – Wait…a sword?

Peter ran for his life (followed by shouts of, "Halt thou scurvy knave! Halt!"), or so he thought, and was stopped form his headlong rush by a ladder right in front of him.

**Kaboom!**

Peter fell to the floor and rubbed his head. Hopefully, he thought, not too many brain cells were damaged, and he would still make a favorable impression on his new teacher.

Peter opened his eyes and saw, on the floor below him a sign saying _Welcome to the Divination Tower, to get to the classroom go up this ladder and turn right. For the office, turn left._

Peter got up and looked at the ladder. He had had an abnormal fear of ladders and swords ever since the day he and his brother had been having a mock swordfight in the loft of the barn at home.

Alright, just pretend that this is not a ladder, he told himself. Let's pretend it is a staircase with no railings and super thin, super far away from each other steps. He took a step towards the base of the ladder. You can do this Peter, he repeated in his mind again and again. If the Little Engine That Could made it up that hill, I can make it up that ladder.

One step closer.

One foot on the first rung.

Up to the next rung.

And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

Halfway up.

And the next rung.

All of a sudden, Peter felt himself slipping.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!" he screamed.

And then he stopped. He was suspended in midair right next to the ladder. He poked at the air beneath his feet. It was hard. Someone must have put an anti-falling charm on the ladder, he thought.

"Ah, I am glad that I Saw you slipping and put an anti-falling charm on the ladder," the Divination professor said looking down through the trapdoor, "Come on up. You are late."

"Right," Peter said. He shuffled his feet towards the ladder and stepped on, feeling the force field that had held himself up disappear. Feeling much better about climbing the ladder, now, he quickly made his way up through the trapdoor.

The Divination tower was dark and gloomy like the rest of Hogwarts. He started making his way to the one unoccupied chair, but the professor stopped him.

"Since you were late, Mister Pettigrew, you can come stand up here and assist with this exercise for your Sight," the professor said.

"How did you know my name?" Peter blurted out.

"I can See many things Mister Pettigrew," the professor replied mysteriously.

Peter made his way up to the front.

"Hold this," the professor told him. She handed Peter a big jar of pickled peppers. "Now, class. If Peter Pettigrew picks a peck of purple puked on pickled peppers, what do you predict Peter Pettigrew would do with his peck o purple puked on purple pickled peppers?" she said in one breath.

The class was only able to stare at her, stunned by the amount of words that began with p in the sentence.

The professor sighed. "I said, if Peter Pettigrew picks a peck of purple puked on pickled peppers, what do you predict Peter Pettigrew would do with his peck of purple puked on purple pickled peppers?"

"Um. Maybe he would eat the pickles?" a random Hufflepuff asked.

"You are all hopeless!" the Divination professor wailed, wiping tears form her eyes. "Who would ever eat purple puked on pickled peppers? My Inner Eye must have been blocked when I took this teaching job! I should never have let Albus take me away from Aberforth. I think he was jealous! I quit!"

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